


Bridge the Gap

by tamerofdarkstars



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Reconciliation, call this a B+ support or so, coming to an understanding, listen this game has completely consumed my entire being
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 23:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20497166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamerofdarkstars/pseuds/tamerofdarkstars
Summary: “I was… planning on offering an olive branch,” Ferdinand admitted. “A truce, of sorts, if you could call it that.”-Mild spoilers for the Black Eagles Route





	Bridge the Gap

**Author's Note:**

> i nearly had to go lie down and recover after witnessing their A/A+ supports i mean good lord how am i supposed to handle that?? the answer seems to be by writing a metric ton of fanfiction - this is absolutely only the beginning.
> 
> anyway this is set between their B and A supports during the time skip, so let's call it a B+ support

It was true that Hubert had never willingly rejected an order from Her Majesty, but admittedly, he rather wished she was giving this particular order to somebody else.

But Edelgard looked up from the map of Fódlan spread out on the floor of her old bedroom, her eyes tired and her expression grave. “Hubert, will you please go and wake Ferdinand? I believe he spent summers near this particular mountain pass. His input here would be invaluable.”

Hubert stifled a sigh. “Your Majesty, surely you yourself are familiar with it as well? It is, after all, Empire Territory.”

But that had been the wrong reply. Funny. Hubert considered himself to be an expert in reading Lady Edelgard’s expressions, her body language, her moods. He knew Edelgard better than anyone else, after all. Better than he knew even himself. But he had to admit he was startled by the frustration that leaped across her face like lightning.

“Hubert,” she said, steel underlying her words. “This petty dislike between you and Ferdinand must cease immediately. I cannot afford to have a visible lack of trust between my generals at such a critical point in the campaign.”

Hubert bowed his head. Of course, she was right. “My apologies, Lady Edelgard, I--”

“Do not apologize to me,” she said, sitting back from the map. He’d offered her a chair, but she’d insisted on spreading the map out right there on the floor, getting down on her hands and knees to pour over it in detail. Edelgard examined him, eyes serious. “Of course, I do not expect the two of you to suddenly decide to run away together and become married in secret or anything...”

His expression must have done something truly remarkable because Edelgard’s face lit up in an amused smile.

“But,” she continued, the smile fading as quickly as it had sprouted, “I do expect you to trust each other. You are both very skilled strategists and I often find myself appreciating your differing opinions as I consider my own strategies. You are both helping me to grow every day, Hubert, and that is with the pair of you so often at each other’s throats.” She sighed, reaching up and brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Imagine how great you could be if you could stand to work together.”

Hubert pondered her words. It was true, he did not find Ferdinand as irritating as he had in the years they’d been classmates. In truth, he’d been growing rather impressed with the cunning Ferdinand had been showing as he led his unit into battle.

Perhaps Edelgard had a point. Perhaps he’d been falling back on old, petty arguments to the detriment of their visions for the future.

“I will go and wake him,” Hubert said softly and bowed to his Emperor.

Edelgard inclined her head in response, eyes already drifting back to the map. Hubert took just one more moment to study her, taking in the circles beneath her eyes and the slump of her shoulders and bizarrely, found himself wishing for the presence of the Professor.

Hubert shook his head slightly, as if by doing so he could knock the foolish thought from his own head, and turned out into the hall.

Ferdinand’s room was only a few doors down from Edelgard’s. Hubert raised his fist and knocked, three sharp raps. When there was no reply, he sighed and reached for the knob.

“Ferdinand, get up. Lady Edelgard requests your--”

But Ferdinand’s room was empty – the bed made and undisturbed.

Hubert frowned, eyes flicking from the bed to the stack of books balanced precariously on the desk to the window, closed and latched shut. No signs of forced entry, no signs of a struggle.

Where then was Ferdinand?

He stepped back into the hall, shutting Ferdinand’s door behind him with a soft click, and walked back down the hall towards the stairs. Perhaps he’d gone out for some air or a nighttime patrol. Sleep was elusive these days for all of them, save perhaps Lindhardt, and it was not at all unusual to find Petra roaming the grounds, eyes sharp and feet quick, or Dorothea high on the parapet near the chapel gazing up at the moon, expression lost and far away.

Hubert made a loop of the monastery, keeping mostly to the shadows, but Ferdinand was nowhere in sight.

He sighed, finding himself growing increasingly annoyed. He stood in the former Black Eagles classroom, the desks sullen silent shapes drenched in shadow, and thought.

What did he know about Ferdinand? He was relentlessly optimistic, though even his infernal good humor had taken a beating in the recent months. He’d often calm himself with a cup of tea… but Hubert had walked through the empty dining hall with no sign of him.

He thought of Edelgard’s words then – “You’re both skilled strategists” - and it hit him.

“Of course,” he murmured, and left the classroom.

The second floor above the chapel was just as still and silent as the rest of the monastery, but the library door was open, flickering firelight leaping out into the hallway like a beacon.

Ferdinand was seated at a table near the back corner of the library, fast asleep, face pillowed on a thick open tome, jaw slack.

Hubert paused beside the table, studying him. There were books everywhere, stacked all around him like he’d tried to build himself a little cavern in which to hide. There was a cup of tea next to his left hand. When Hubert reached out to touch it, he found the porcelain cool, the liquid inside it cold.

“Ferdinand,” he said, voice softer than he’d meant it. He reached out, then strangely found himself hesitating. Ferdinand’s expression was soft in sleep, some of the worry lines near his eyes smoothed out, and Hubert realized that he hadn’t noticed how exhausted Ferdinand appeared until this moment. How much sleep had Ferdinand forgone in recent days?

It wouldn’t do to have him falter on the battlefield because exhaustion had dulled his reflexes. Not when there were soldiers counting on him. Not when Lady Edelgard was counting on him. Not when Hubert himself—

Hubert pressed his lips together, irritated, and put a hand on Ferdinand’s shoulder. “Ferdinand.”

Ferdinand jolted upright so quickly that Hubert jumped, startled, adrenaline dumping into his veins as Ferdinand grabbed him around the wrist and, in a graceful, twisting maneuver whirled them both until he’d pressed Hubert up against the nearest set of shelves, an arm held tight against his throat.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sounds of their breathing, harsh in the stillness. Hubert’s lip curled, even as his heart throbbed in his ears and magic tingled in the tips of his fingers, leaping to his call by pure reflex.

“Well then, it seems you’ve caught me,” he said, voice heavy with sarcasm. “What now, then? Is here where I am to die, after everything?”

Ferdinand blinked at him, sleep clearing from his eyes. “Hubert?” He seemed to take in their positioning, eyes dropping from Hubert’s eyes down to where Ferdinand still had his forearm pressed into the hollow of Hubert’s throat.

“Oh,” he breathed, and stepped backwards, swiftly putting space between them. Hubert relaxed, eyeing Ferdinand as the other man ran shaking fingers through his hair. “Hubert, I… my sincerest apologies, I must have… I am afraid you startled me.”

“No apology necessary,” Hubert said, straightening the front of his shirt. “I am certain I would have reacted in a similar manner, were someone to wake me like that.”

“Oh,” Ferdinand said, sounding surprised. “Well. Thank you. I offer my apologies anyway. I did not injure you, did I?”

Hubert scoffed. “It will take more than that to injure me, I assure you.”

Ferdinand flashed him a small, tired smile and crossed to the table, looking down at the stack of books. “I must have dozed off right here.” He noticed the cup of tea and clicked his tongue, looking legitimately disappointed. “What a waste of a perfectly good cup of tea.”

Hubert folded his arms. “What were you doing up here, anyway? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Ferdinand glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Bold words, considering it was you who came looking for me. Why did you come anyway? You could not have possibly missed my sparkling company.”

“Indeed, I did not,” Hubert said automatically, the reply as familiar as any he might have given Ferdinand. However, this time, it was with the memory of Edelgard’s tired expression as she asked him, quietly, to please try. He sighed, conceding to Edelgard’s requests even in his memory. “But I was looking for you.”

Ferdinand paused where he was stacking books, fingers resting lightly on a well-worn book of military tactics. “Were you, then?”

“Yes. Lady Edelgard sent me to wake you. It seems she would like your input on traversing a certain mountain pass near where you might have once summered with your family.” Hubert crossed to the other side of the table and closed one of the open books, picking it up and handing it to Ferdinand to add to the growing stack.

“Did she now?” Ferdinand sounded pleased. “I know just the pass she means, I’m sure. It is tricky, certainly, but it is doable. The key in that is over, rather than through. Lengthens the journey by a day or two, but it definitely puts us in a better position once on the other side.”

“Hm, interesting,” Hubert mused, picking up another book and handing it over. “One would think that through would be more efficient.”

“Ah, but I happen to know of a little pathway to the north. Trust me, Hubert. I will show you when we return to Edelgard, and I think even you will agree that it is the better choice.” Ferdinand seemed far more awake now, eyes brighter as he stacked the books into a tower. Hubert picked up the last book, a slim volume, and looked down at it.

“Well, I’m sure Lady Edelgard will appreciate--”

He paused, frowning.

“Ah.” And now Ferdinand sounded rather embarrassed. “That is...”

“_The History of Coffee in Fódlan_,” Hubert read, raising an eyebrow. He looked up at Ferdinand and was surprised to see the hints of a flush creeping up his neck. “An odd choice, considering the other books you have gathered here.”

Ferdinand sighed. “I was rather hoping you wouldn’t notice that particular volume,” he said, and held out his hand. Hubert handed it over and Ferdinand placed it on the top of the stack.

“Why?”

“I was… planning on offering an olive branch,” Ferdinand admitted. He reached up behind his head and swept his loose hair into a bunch, tying it all in place at the back of his neck with a bit of material he produced from his pocket. “A truce, of sorts, if you could call it that.”

“A truce,” Hubert repeated, deadpan.

“Yes.” Ferdinand met his gaze steadily, his expression serious. “I have to admit that quarreling with you so constantly is troublesome, both for the others and for my own peace of mind. And so I thought to offer a truce.”

Hubert blinked, uncharacteristically surprised for the second time that night, but Ferdinand did not seem to notice, too caught up in his own words.

“We are close to Edelgard in ways the others are not,” Ferdinand said, dropping his gaze to the table. “And while I do not claim to be nearly as close to her as you are, even you have to admit that she takes my opinions into account as well. And if I am to live through this war, I would step into my father’s place as Prime Minister, and it would not do to have the Emperor’s right hand quarreling with the leader of her cabinet.”

Hubert crossed his arms over his chest, listening carefully. Ferdinand was not saying anything that he himself did not already know, after all. “Go on.”

“Go on? I’ve said my piece.” Ferdinand sighed. “As I said, I do not distrust you. I do not even dislike you, Hubert. I find you intelligent, your strategies interesting, and I find myself wishing often that we did not argue so much, so that it might not be strange for me to seek you out for an opinion. Or even just a cup of tea and a conversation partner with whom I might clear my head.”

He looked down at the stack of books in front of him, a wry smile crossing his face. “Which brings me to this.” He tapped the book on coffee. “I noticed that you do not seem to drink tea – at least, I never see you drinking it. When I do see you actually sitting down for anything resembling a break, it is always with a cup of coffee at hand. But I admit I do not know anything about coffee, since I cannot stand to drink it myself.”

“So you thought you’d read a book on it?” Hubert asked, mystified and Ferdinand shrugged.

“I thought if I were to invite you to join me for a cup of tea, I should at least make sure to provide something that you actually like to drink.”

Hubert stared at him. There was a strange emotion curling in his chest – something uncomfortable that itched just beneath his breastbone, as if he’d been infected by a slow creeping poison.

“I...” he began, and then stopped. It was very rare that Hubert von Vestra found himself at a loss for words, but Hubert could honestly not think of a thing to say in reply.

Ferdinand held up a hand. “It is alright, Hubert. Truly. I know that I am not your first choice in companions.”

Hubert shook his head, unable to keep his disbelief from his expression. “It would appear that I am the one who should apologize,” he said and Ferdinand went still, clearly surprised. “I have misjudged you, Ferdinand. Or at least, misjudged the man you have grown to be.”

“I do not think--” Ferdinand began but Hubert held up a hand.

“I have been falling back on old and familiar arguments from our school days,” he said. His eyes went to the book at the top of the stack again, and he found that he could not stop looking at it. “And I have not given you – or this… partnership, if that is the word – the chance I am starting to see I should have.”

A slow smile was beginning to form on Ferdinand’s face. “Do you mean it?”

“Do not misunderstand,” growled Hubert, disgusted with the way his chest seemed to grow tight at the sight of Ferdinand’s delight. “Were Lady Edelgard to come to find you to be a nuisance, then I would--”

But Ferdinand was waving away his words as though they were nothing. “Yes, yes, of course. But never fear. It will not come to that. My duty is in my service to my Emperor. As is yours’.”

“Indeed,” Hubert said stiffly. This was all very strange, this companionable conversation with Ferdinand. But not, perhaps, as strange as it should have been. How could it be, that Hubert had been growing comfortable with the man before he’d even been aware of it?

Ferdinand slapped his own forehead then, pressing his palm against his temple. “Ah! But we have forgotten Edelgard’s request. We must go, before she sends out a search party and we are both in trouble.”

Hubert snorted. Perish the very thought, an entire search party sent out only to find them wiling away the time with conversation in the library. What a waste of resources.

“I doubt Lady Edelgard would waste the time sending an entire search party,” he said dryly, stepping around the table so he was even with Ferdinand. “My bet, were I to lay one, would be on Dorothea, sent to drag us back by our earlobes.”

Ferdinand burst out laughing, the sound bright and amused, eyes going warm and soft and crinkling at the corners and Hubert’s breath stopped stone still in his lungs.

A foolish pride that it had been he to draw that sound from Ferdinand’s throat was curling in the pit of his stomach, strange and prickling and altogether alarming.

Disconcerted, Hubert brushed past Ferdinand and towards the hallway. “Come. We mustn’t keep Lady Edelgard waiting any longer.”

He did not turn to see if Ferdinand was behind him, but it was only after he heard the telltale footfalls following after him did he allow the tension in his shoulders to slip away.

“Hubert.” Ferdinand jogged a bit to catch up to him, walking close enough that their shoulders could very nearly brush, were Hubert to perhaps lean just a bit. “Join me tomorrow. For tea, I mean.”

Hubert looked askance at him, at the hopeful expression in Ferdinand’s eyes, at the tentative smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He sighed. “Very well,” he said and Ferdinand’s smile blossomed. “But just this once.”

“But of course,” Ferdinand agreed as they approached the stairs. “How terrible it would be if the others were to catch wind of us agreeing upon anything.”

“Most terrible indeed. After all, we do not get along. Rather famously, or so I’m told.”

“Quite right,” Ferdinand said, laughter still present in his voice, and stepped ahead of him into the narrow staircase. Hubert watched as he disappeared down into the darkness, one hand on the rough stone wall for balance, and wondered what exactly had just happened.

“Foolish,” he muttered, but whether it was at himself or at Ferdinand’s retreating back, even Hubert could not be sure.


End file.
